


Distorted Image

by exclamation



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Apologies, Body Dysmorphia, Crying, Eating Disorder, Established Relationship, Fat Shaming, Graphic Descriptions of Vomit, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Season 1, Self-Esteem Issues, Weight Issues, angrily supportive Yurio, anxiety!!! on ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:59:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exclamation/pseuds/exclamation
Summary: When Victor makes a joke about Yuri's weight, Yuri's response is to throw up in the restaurant's bathroom. He didn't plan on Yurio walking in and catching him. Yuri is forced to confront his issues with his weight and his distorted perceptions of his appearance. Victor is forced to confront the harm his jokes have done to his boyfriend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a piece of meta on Tumblr about Yuri's appearance in the first couple of episodes and the possibility that he has body dysmorphia - he sees himself as much fatter than he is. Thinking along these lines inevitably let me to fanfiction. 
> 
> I also wanted to do a fix-it of sorts for the fact that Victor never apologised to Yuri for those horrible comments about his weight. 
> 
> Warning: this story will include fat-shaming, internalised fat-phobia, and discussions of binging and purging.

“Just be careful, Yuri,” Victor said with a laughing grin, “we know where all this food is going to end up.” 

He poked a teasing finger into Yuri’s side, where in sank in further than it had any right to, poking into fat and flab. Yuri froze, the fork in his mouth, the restaurant’s food suddenly tasting like ash and disappointment. He looked at the plate in front of him, almost empty now, and was intensely aware of how much he’d just eaten. He was going to end up a fat pig again, too fat for Victor to want to skate, too fat for Victor to want. 

Across the table, Yurio and Mila continued their discussion about their respective programs, apparently oblivious to the conversation between Yuri and Victor. Around them, the other diners shared meals and conversations, no one paying the slightest bit of attention to the group of skaters at the corner table. Still, Yuri felt like he was standing in a spotlight. A spotlight that cast every curve and roll of his body into stark relief. 

“Yuri?” Victor said, concern starting to replace the teasing tone. Yuri forced himself to swallow the mouthful of food and set down his fork. 

“It’s alright,” Yuri said. “I was getting pretty full anyway. I guess I’ll go for a longer run than usual tomorrow before practice.” 

But a run wasn’t going to cut it. He could feel his stomach, swollen and huge with the amount of food they’d just eaten. It was restaurant food too, probably cooked with loads of fat and oil. It had tasted so good because it was full of calories. He could run for miles and probably burn off only a single mouthful. 

He needed to do something quickly, before he ended up the disgusting mess he’d been after his first Grand Prix. 

“Excuse me,” Yuri said, pushing up from the table and hurrying to the restaurant’s bathroom before Victor could say anything else. There were three stalls inside and Yuri checked them all to make sure they were empty before shutting himself in one and dropping to his knees in front of the toilet. His stomach was already churning with disgust, nausea rising at the thought of so much food. He barely needed to stick his fingers to the back of his throat before he was vomiting up everything he’d just eaten. 

The vomit burned his throat, chunks of meat and vegetable pouring out of his mouth. He coughed and half-choked on a mouthful of undigested dinner and then he was vomiting again. He watched the food hit the bowl of the toilet, splattering up the sides, and wondered if it was enough, how much he’d got out of everything he’d just eaten. It didn’t look like enough. He’d stuffed himself like a pig. It wouldn’t do to stop while he still had half a feast in his stomach ready to add layers of fat to his torso and thighs. 

He stuck his fingers into his mouth again. They were already splattered with vomit and that helped set off the next wave of retching vomit. 

“Are you throwing up in here?” a voice asked. Yuri hadn’t heard the door opening over the sound of his purge. 

Yuri coughed out a last acidic mouthful and froze, face heating with the shame at being caught. He was an idiot, doing this somewhere so public. 

Yurio’s face appeared beneath the cubical door. Yuri started to shake. He was caught. Yurio would tell everyone and now the world would know how little self-control Yuri had. They’d know he was a disgusting pig who couldn’t be trusted not to stuff himself, who could only stay in shape to skate by throwing up. 

“Have you got food poisoning or something?” Yurio asked. “If it’s making you sick, we should go deal with the chef. There’s no way we should be paying.” 

“It’s not... It’s not food poisoning,” Yuri said. He had to say it, because Yuiro’s way of dealing with the chef would probably involve kicking him across the kitchen and then either someone would get hurt or Yurio would get arrested or both. Yuri couldn’t let an innocent person get beaten to a pulp because of his weakness. 

“Then what’s going on?” Yurio asked. He peered up at Yuri from his awkward, crouched position, frowning when he saw the vomit smears on Yuri’s fingers. “Did you _make_ yourself sick?” 

Yuri looked away. His eyes, which had been watering from the puking, started to fill with tears properly. He didn’t want to get caught trying in a bathroom by Yurio twice, but he couldn’t make the tears go away. Yurio obviously took that as an answer. 

“Why the hell would you do something so stupid?” he demanded. 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Not a big deal? What the hell are you talking about? Of course it’s a big deal!” Yurio’s voice rose to a shout. 

“Please, just go back to the table.” 

“Does Victor know you’re doing this? Did he call you fat again? Is that why you’re doing this?” 

“It’s not like Victor’s the only one who’s called me fat. You call me a pig more often than you use my name.” Yuri couldn’t stop the tears flowing. They ran down his cheeks, just another sign of his weakness. 

“That’s not...” Yurio seemed lost for words for possibly the first time. It took him a few moments to find the words to continue. “That’s because I hated you. Victor should be better. No one should insult their boyfriend. If he calls you fat again, you should punch him in the face, kick him in the crotch, and then dump his ass.” 

“That’s... a bit extreme,” said Yuri. 

“No. It’s not. You shouldn’t just take the shit people throw at you. Stand up for yourself, moron, and don’t let your boyfriend call you stuff like that.” 

“Even if it’s true?” 

“True?” Yurio looked like he wanted to kick down the stall door and throttle him. “How could you think it’s true?” 

“Just... look at me.” 

“Don’t make me say it, Yuri,” Yurio growled out. 

“Say what?” 

“You’re not fat! OK! Happy now?” He looked like that statement pained him to say. 

“You’re just saying that to be nice.” 

“WHEN HAVE I EVER BEEN NICE?!” Yurio screamed. He continued at a normal volume, “You’re annoying and you can’t land a quad flip twice in a row and you making goo-goo eyes at Victor across the rink makes _me_ want to puke, but you’re not fat. You got that?” 

Yuri nodded, but only because he thought Yurio would yell at him again if he didn’t. Yuri knew what he was, knew that he wasn’t in the same shape as the other skaters, knew that one little slip-up was all it would take for him to be a disgusting mess again. 

He heard the bathroom door open again and then Victor’s voice said, “It’s been getting noisy in here. Is everything alright?” 

Yurio stood up and Yuri could only kneel by the toilet at the thought that Victor, of all people, was about to see him as he really was. 

“You broke your boyfriend,” Yurio growled. “Fix him or I’ll fix you and if you ever call him fat again I will strip the skin from your flesh and turn it into my next costume. Got it?” 

There was the sound of footsteps retreating and the door opening and closing once again. Yuri stayed where he was, frozen in fear and shame, aware that only a thin, cubical door was between him and Victor. 

“Yuri?” Victor asked, voice full of concern. “What’s going on? I broke you?” 

“Yurio’s just being dramatic. It’s fine. I’m fine. Go back to the table.” 

“Yuri, what happened?” 

Yuri hated the sound of all that love and concern in his tone, because he knew that the moment Victor saw what was really going on, all that love would turn to disgust. Yuri knew that would kill him. 

“Why was Yurio talking about me calling you fat?” Victor asked. There was movement on the other side of the cubical door but Yuri didn’t dare turn to look. He faced the toilet rather than seeing Victor’s face where Yurio’s had been a moment before. 

“Yuri,” Victor said, “were you making yourself ill?” 

“I just ate too much too quickly,” Yuri said. “That’s all. Please, go back to the table. I’ll be out soon.” 

“I’m not going to leave until you open this cubical door.” 

Yuri was trapped. There was no way out of this except to try and downplay it. Maybe he could claim food poisoning; it wasn’t like Victor would beat up the chef. 

He used toilet paper to wipe his hands and mouth and then dried his tears, hoping against hope that he might look vaguely normal when he walked out. He flushed the toilet and stepped out into the main bathroom, walking past Victor to the sinks. He couldn’t look his boyfriend in the eye. 

“Yuri,” Victor said, whispering his name like a prayer. Yuri just ran some water and rinsed his mouth out, before scrubbing his hands thoroughly with soap. “Did you make yourself sick because I joked about you gaining weight?” 

“It’s nothing, Victor,” Yuri said. “I told you. I just ate too fast.” 

“Yuri, you are a terrible liar. I’m sorry.” 

“Forget about it. It’s nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing!” For a moment, Yuri thought Victor might start yelling like Yurio had, but instead, he making a choking sound. When Yuri dared risk a glance at Victor’s reflection, he saw tears on his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t mean... I’m sorry.” 

Yuri couldn’t stand seeing Victor cry. He wanted to comfort his boyfriend, to reassure him that this wasn’t his fault, that this was all Yuri’s weakness, but admitting that felt like exposing himself to scrutiny that would destroy any respect Victor had for him. There was no way out of this conversation that was good. Yuri’s own tears started up again. 

The bathroom door opened. For a moment, a strange man stood there, watching the two of them crying at each other. 

“I’ll come back,” the man said and backed out of the bathroom. 

“Can we not do this here?” Yuri asked. “Not in public.” 

“OK.” Victor nodded. He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped his eyes with it. “OK. I’ll pay our bill and we’ll go home. We can talk there.” 

Yuri nodded. He didn’t want to talk there either, but at least the walk back to Victor’s apartment would give him some time to think about how to explain this.


	2. Chapter 2

The walk between the restaurant and the apartment was far too short for Yuri to think of what he needed to say, but long enough to be extremely awkward. Neither of them said anything. Victor didn’t try to take his hand or anything, but that might have had more to do with the fact that they were in Russia and he was always less openly affectionate out in public in this country. Yuri told himself that it didn’t mean Victor was disgusted by him. 

When they reached the apartment building, Yuri and Victor walked in side-by-side, but still feeling the gap between them, the events of the restaurant like a wall holding them apart. 

They went up in the lift and then walked along the hallway towards the apartment door. Each step seemed to take longer than the one before, dragging out this walk forever, but still the door crept closer. Yuri didn’t want to go inside because then he’d have to talk to Victor. He’d have to actually admit what he’d done and face the way it changed how Victor looked at him. 

Inside, Yuri stood by the door, frozen with his fear, waiting for the inevitable, but Victor just crossed to the kitchen area. 

“I’m going to make some tea,” he said. He got out two mugs. Yuri just watched as Victor got out the packets of tea: black tea for Victor, green for Yuri. It was so familiar a movement that Yuri could almost hope that they would just go through the motions of normality and slip into old patterns and no one would ever have to talk about what had happened at the restaurant. 

But then Victor was pressing a mug of tea into his hands and guiding him over to the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” Victor said again, sitting down beside Yuri, one hand still resting on Yuri’s arm. 

“I told you, it was nothing. It was just this one time. No need to make a big deal out of it.” 

“Just this once? So you’ve never made yourself throw up before?” 

Yuri didn’t answer. He didn’t want to lie to his boyfriend. 

“Oh, Yuri.” Victor sounded so sad but Yuri couldn’t make himself look at him. He stared at his tea and then sipped it, trying to erase the taste of vomit that lingered in his mouth. 

“It’s not like it happens often,” Yuri said. 

“How often?” 

Yuri shrugged. He didn’t want to calculate it. “It’s been months.” 

The last time had been after the Rostelecom Cup, after a lacklustre performance, with Victor in another country, not knowing if the dog would survive or not. Yuri had been a mess and had ordered half the items on the hotel’s room service menu, only to freak out at the thought of what Victor might say when he saw him. He didn’t admit this out loud though, because it might make Victor feel guilty about leaving him there alone at that competition. 

“Months,” Victor echoed. “OK. It’s good that it doesn’t happen often, but it shouldn’t happen at all. If it’s because of what I said at the restaurant...” 

Yuri cut him off before he could apologise again. It wasn’t right for Victor to take on the guilt of this. 

“I hate to break it to you, Victor, but not everything in my life revolves around you. This has been going on since long before you came into my life.” He tried to make his tone light and joking, but it was obvious Victor didn’t buy it for a moment. 

“Oh, Yuri.” Victor’s arm wrapped around Yuri’s shoulder, pulling him into a sideways hug. Yuri leaned into the warmth but didn’t reciprocate. 

“I told you, it doesn’t happen often. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Of course it’s a big deal. It’s your health.” 

“I’m fine!” Yuri pulled away, suddenly angry because it was easier than facing so much pity. Victor was acting like this was something that was happening to Yuri, like he’d caught a virus or something, instead of something Yuri did to himself. Yuri stood, abandoning Victor and his tea, and paced the living room instead. 

“Yuri, I’m trying to help.” 

“Then leave it alone! I have everything under control.” 

“Yuri, you don’t have to do this to yourself. You’re not fat.” 

Yuri gave a bitter laugh, “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” 

“What? I’m not lying.” 

“Maybe I’m not right now, but when you came to Japan, when you met me...” Yuri rubbed his hands over his stomach, clenching his ab muscles, remembering how that had felt. He felt the flesh beneath his hands now, too soft, too flabby. Victor was just trying to be nice because Yuri was upset and Yurio had yelled at him. He didn’t mean it. 

“Yuri, what I said that, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it, I shouldn’t have called you...” He trailed off so Yuri finished the sentence for him. 

“A pig.” 

“It was a joke. It was like calling a tall person tiny, it was meant to be fun. Yes, you’d put on a few pounds since the Grand Prix but calling you that was meant to make it light-hearted, because it was obvious that you weren’t really fat.” 

“Just fat for a figure skater.” 

“Yuri, I’m sorry. I was wrong to say it. I will never say anything like that again.” 

“Even if it’s true?” 

“But it’s not true.” 

“I gain weight easily. I know that. If I let my control slip, I put on weight. I get fat.” 

“A couple of extra pounds isn’t the same as being fat,” Victor said, but Yuri knew he was lying, he knew what he looked like when he let himself binge. He knew the curves, the way his stomach had rolls when he sat down, the way his flesh became soft. 

“Stop lying to me!” Yuri snapped. 

“You need to stop lying to yourself. You actually believe you’re fat, don’t you?” When Yuri didn’t answer, Victor said, “Wait here.” 

Victor stood and hurried across the apartment to where his laptop lay. He opened it up and returned to the couch. For a minute, he just stared intently at the screen, tapping away at the keys. The conversation they’d been having only a moment before seemed forgotten. 

“What are you doing?” Yuri asked, when his curiosity couldn’t take it anymore. He started back towards the couch to look over Victor’s shoulder, but Victor held up a hand in a gesture for him to stay back. 

“Just a minute. Ah. Got it.” Victor stood and turned his laptop towards Victor. There were two photos on the screen, both of a figure skater with the face hidden. The skater wore the costume Victor had once worn in a Junior competition, the same competition Yuri had used for his short program this season. 

“One of these photos is me,” Victor said. “One of them is you. Can you tell which is which?” 

Yuri stared at the screen. He honestly couldn’t tell. If he’d just been shown the photos, he would have said that they were both Victor, but he didn’t believe Victor would trick him like that. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Yuri said. “Those photographers, they always use the best angles and photoshop and all of that.” 

“Yuri,” Victor set the laptop down again and grabbed Yuri’s hand, “you are thin and beautiful and graceful. Even if you weren’t all of those things, which you are, it wouldn’t change the fact that you are an amazing person and I love you. Your value as a person shouldn’t be defined by numbers on a scale or how you think you look, but if you need me to, I will tell you how beautiful you are to me. I will tell you every day until you believe me, every day for the rest of my life if I have to. It’s the least I can do to make up for the words I’ve said that hurt you.” 

Victor pulled Yuri into a hug, arms wrapping tight around him. 

“You don’t... think I’m disgusting for doing this?” 

“No. Never. I want you to stop, because I want you to be well, I want you to see yourself the way I see you. I want you to be happy with who you are because who you are is wonderful. I love you.”

Yuri finally returned the hug, holding onto Victor like a drowning man hanging on to a rope. This perfect, wonderful man who could see all his flaws and still love him. This man who saw how messed up Yuri was, how weak, and still wanted to help. 

“I love you,” Yuri whispered. The arms around him squeezed tighter. 

“We’ll get through this, Yuri,” Victor said, “I promise. I will stand by you through this, no matter what it takes, until you can see yourself as beautiful as I see you.” 

Yuri knew that Victor really believed that. In that moment, with Victor’s arms around him, Yuri could almost believe it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to end on an optimistic note, but I couldn't have everything magically be OK because of a few nice words. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this story. Comments are always appreciated so thank you to those who commented on the first chapter.


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